


20th century boy

by WeeBeastie



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1970s, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Handkerchief Code, M/M, Public Sex, Sex Club, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-17 23:12:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14841017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeBeastie/pseuds/WeeBeastie
Summary: well it's plain to seeyou were meant for meyeah i'm your boyyour 20th century toy





	20th century boy

**Author's Note:**

> So I got to 400 followers on Tumblr and put out a call for prompts. This was the first one that came in:
> 
> “For your 400 (congratulations!) could you write some silverflint 70’s AU where they meet at a sex party and meet dancing, then fuck in one of the stalls. Silver gets even more turned on when someone is looking through a peephole and Flint whispers dirty things to him.”
> 
> HOT DAMN. Naturally I jumped at the chance to write that! Title and lyrics in the summary from “20th Century Boy” by T.Rex. This is totally filthy, it’s rated Explicit for a reason, you’ve been warned. ;)

Silver’s lost track of the friends he came in with, but he’s not letting that get him down. He’s standing with his back on the wall, watching others cruise and be cruised, a cigarette between his index and middle fingers. The room is smoky, hazy, lit with the kind of rosy neon that makes everybody look good. There are people dancing, making out, flirting - it’s a pretty typical night so far. 

Silver scans the room for anybody who looks particularly tasty, then pushes away from the wall to take a little tour around the room himself. He’s gone all out for tonight: bright paisley shirt open nearly to his stomach, Levi’s that he knows make his ass look amazing, and the prerequisite handkerchief in his right pocket - hunter green, tonight; he’s here for one thing and one thing only. He makes eye contact with a few men as he wanders the room, feels more than a few sets of eyes on him. It’s exhilarating. 

Then - it’s like thunder, like lightning. He sees a man from across the room and stops dead in his tracks. The man sees him, too, and they move toward each other like they’re being drawn together magnetically, the force of their mutual attraction is that strong. He throws his cigarette down and crushes it under his boot, exhaling the last breath of smoke before he and the man come face to face. 

Up close he’s taller than Silver thought, all broad shoulders and a hairy, freckled chest, green eyes and an exquisitely groomed ginger beard. He’s got hair just long enough to tuck behind his ears, and his black leather pants are so tight Silver can’t help but stare. His shirt, such as it is, leaves hardly anything to the imagination, just an open black vest with nothing underneath. Both his nipples are pierced with small silver hoops. 

“Hi,” Silver says over the loud music, tearing his eyes away from the man’s crotch to grin up at him. “Wanna dance?” 

“Yeah,” the man says, grinning back. He takes Silver’s hips in his hands, pulling him close. Silver drapes one arm around his shoulders and they grind together, falling into an easy rhythm. “Flint,” he says, and it takes Silver a minute to realize he’s just given his name. 

“Silver,” he replies, resting his hand on the back of Flint’s neck, fingers twining in his hair. 

They don’t say much else because there’s no reason to, really. Their bodies are doing all the communicating for them - Silver can feel that Flint is hard against him, and he’s already imagining what he looks like out of those leather pants. They both know what they’re here for. 

Flint peers over Silver’s shoulder and must catch sight of the hunter green handkerchief because he says, “You looking for a daddy?” in his ear, a hopeful note to his voice. 

“Mmhm,” Silver responds, and reaches around to Flint’s left pocket, finding a handkerchief there as he’d expected - a black one. He’s hit the jackpot. “Right on,” he says excitedly, and Flint laughs, looking pleased. 

“Let’s get out of here, then,” Flint suggests, his lips moving against Silver’s ear. Silver nods his agreement and as Bowie wails about fame over the stereo, they leave the crush of people on the dance floor, passing through a narrow hallway to a separate space.

This space is darker lit than the cruising area/dance floor, just a hint of that rosy neon light filtering in. It’s lined with small plywood cubicles painted black, and each has a door that locks - but each door has a peephole, for anybody who’d like to watch. Some of the doors are shut and Silver can hear men fucking within the cubicles, can smell their sex and their bodies in the heavy, humid air. He and Flint find an empty cubicle off to the left, and as Flint shuts and locks the door, Silver opens the button fly of his jeans, freeing his hard cock from the confines of the too-tight denim. There isn’t a lot of room in the cubicle, but they don’t need much. Flint turns and Silver catches his gaze, stroking himself a little, showing off. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Flint purrs, crowding Silver against the wall, pushing his hand away so he can stroke Silver himself instead. “You’re a bad boy, aren’t you, huh? Look at you in your tight jeans with that ass. You don’t even need the hanky, everybody can tell you want a daddy,” he says as his hot, rough hand jerks Silver’s cock. 

“Fuck,” Silver pants, at a loss for words already. He reaches for Flint’s leather pants, yanking them open and getting his hand inside. It’s not easy getting Flint’s hard cock out of the tight black leather, but he does, giving it a squeeze. He’s gonna be sore tomorrow, he’s sure, now that he’s seen what Flint’s got. Then Flint’s reaching in a pocket of his leather pants with his free hand, producing a little tub of Crisco. He lets go of Silver’s cock to open it and smear some on his palm, then starts stroking again and Silver can’t help but buck into his hand, it feels so good. 

“You want me?” Flint murmurs in his ear, biting him, and Silver just whimpers in agreement. “Say it. You know what I wanna hear.”

“I want your cock, daddy,” Silver replies immediately, feeling his face heat up as Flint chuckles at him, apparently amused by his eagerness. 

“Good boy. Turn around, then. Hands on the wall,” he instructs, firmly but not unkindly. Silver turns and braces himself, biting his lower lip as Flint pulls his jeans down to just below his ass. He spreads his thighs apart in invitation and feels two of Flint’s greased-up fingers pressing in slowly, starting to work him open. Fortunately he doesn’t waste any time - he doesn’t tease Silver too much, just stretches him on a few fingers before withdrawing once he’s satisfied. 

Then Silver feels Flint’s hard, blunt cock pressing against him and he pushes back against it, groaning. It’s been a while since he had anybody inside him, and it stings but he just wants _more_. 

“That’s it, baby,” Flint murmurs as he sinks in, his voice tense.

Once he’s pushed all the way in, his hips flush with Silver’s ass, Silver feels his hands unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way and tugging on it. Silver lifts one hand from the wall, then the other, so Flint can get the shirt off him, then gives him a curious look over his shoulder.

“People are watching,” Flint explains, nodding towards the peephole in the door. “I want them to see you.”

Silver moans and glances over at the peephole; sure enough someone is looking through it. He closes his eyes and pushes back against Flint, starting to move with him. His cock is hot and hard inside Silver, rubbing against that spot within him every time he thrusts in. They start slow but work up to a frantic pace quickly, and before Silver knows what’s happening Flint grabs him around the chest and pulls him back flush against his body. 

“You like it, don’t you, knowing people are watching. Fuck, baby, you’re gorgeous,” Flint pants in his ear, holding Silver tight as he fucks him, his strong arms the only thing keeping Silver from keeling over in a haze of pleasure. Distantly he can hear the throbbing bassline of the music from the other room; he wonders if maybe one of the friends he came in with is the eye at the peephole. 

“Fuck me, daddy,” Silver whines, his head lolling against Flint’s shoulder, and he’s rewarded with one hand circling his cock and stroking it while the other pinches and twists his nipples, hard. “That hurts,” Silver moans, but it’s encouragement, not a complaint. He feels like a ragdoll in Flint’s embrace, being used for Flint’s pleasure, and the thought turns him on so much he leaks precome all over Flint’s left hand. 

“You like it when daddy hurts you this way?” Flint asks, punctuating the question with another sharp pinch to Silver’s right nipple. 

“Yes,” Silver gasps, grinding back against Flint, needing to feel him deep inside. “More, please,” he says, breathless with want. 

Flint makes a low noise of pleasure and fucks Silver deep and hard, burying his face in his neck, nuzzling past his hair to bite and suck his skin. Silver’s gonna have marks there from Flint’s teeth, and the thought excites him so much he hisses and thrusts into Flint’s greasy fist. He can hear their skin smacking together, can feel sweat collecting in the small of his back. Flint is sweating, too, from the exertion of holding Silver up and fucking him like his life depends on it. Silver feels their bodies sticking together, feels Flint’s nipple rings rubbing against him. The earthy, salty scent of their bodies is thick in the air and Silver would swear he can hear someone - or several someones - getting off on them just outside the cubicle. Knowing he’s being watched and that other men are turned on by the sight of him and Flint together takes Silver’s pleasure to new heights. 

“Come on, boy,” Flint growls playfully in his ear, stroking him faster, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive spot under the head of Silver’s cock, and _fuck_ he’s not gonna last if Flint keeps that up. “Come for daddy.”

Distantly Silver hears himself making high-pitched ‘ah, ah’ noises, and then his orgasm crashes into him and he’s coming on Flint’s hand, on himself, on the wall in front of him - it’s practically an out of body experience. He’s still shaking and jelly-legged from it when Flint abruptly pulls out and finishes on his ass, marking him with his come. 

“Fuck,” Silver moans, his voice cracking, and swoons backwards - fortunately Flint is there to catch him and gently right him again. Silver rests one arm on the wall and presses his forehead against it, panting, trying to catch his breath. Dimly he feels Flint cleaning him up with something, and he murmurs his thanks as he hitches his jeans back up, fastens them, and grabs his shirt from where it fell to the floor. 

Once he’s sure he won’t fall over, he turns to face Flint, watching as he tucks himself back into his leather pants and zips them up again. Smirking, his hair sticking to his temples, he hands Silver the hunter green handkerchief that had been in his right pocket - Flint used it to wipe his come off Silver, he realizes. 

“For you to remember me by,” Flint says, and leans in to give Silver a brief but intense kiss before he turns to leave the cubicle. 

“Catch you here again sometime, maybe,” Silver says, stuffing the handkerchief in his pocket. He’s not going to wash it. Later, alone in his bedroom, he’ll touch himself and press the handkerchief to his face, inhaling the heady scent of it as he comes. 

Flint pauses, his hands on the door’s lock. “Yeah, maybe,” he says, and looks keenly at Silver over his shoulder, then winks and vanishes out the door of the cubicle. 

Silver takes a few minutes to compose himself, putting his shirt back on but not bothering with the buttons, and then he leaves, too. He glances around for Flint but he’s long gone, and when Silver goes back out to the dance floor to find his friends, he doesn’t see Flint there, either. He slips his hand into the pocket of his jeans and feels the handkerchief, already looking forward to when he runs into his daddy here again.


End file.
